The Truth Behind Emmy
by Emmy Winehouse
Summary: She was magnificent and I was boring. She loved the thrill and I lived the modest life. I couldn't be as wild as she was. I wasn't born to live the type of life she did: the crazy, liberate life. Still, I wished I could. And she loved me... She loved me. But not as much as I did her.
1. Prologue

The Truth Behind Emmy

By: Harry Potter

When some people think of Emmy, she is an attention-seeking whore who only took her life just for the fuck of it. Others think of her as the poor, troubled child who could've been saved from her tragic end [an end that nobody really knew about]. Only by what people read in the Daily Prophet: she was a sick, teenaged girl who attempted suicide and was successful

But to the people who actually knew what happened that treacherous night, we all knew there was so much more to that. Everything ever said about her are lies. She definitely was not an attention-seeking whore; or a troubled child who could've been saved from her tragic end. She was the most selfless and caring person we have ever met. She was a hero in every sense of the word. Even if she didn't seem like one [which she didn't], she was still one

This sounds like something that happened two or three months ago. But it wasn't. This all occurred the year 1998 in Scotland, when I was seventeen years old. This all happened more than a decade ago. I met Emmy the year before, when she happily pranced into all of our lives

Now, I know you might not believe me and you are probably sneering over what you are reading right now. But I can swear to you with everything that is holy to my heart that this story did transpire. You might be reading the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter's stories like Seamus' mother did, and believe her instead. You might not believe that Hermione Granger was a hero. But she was the bravest person I have ever met. She was braver than my mum, my dad, my sister, the Weasleys, the Malfoys, Neville, Luna, and especially me. And I loved her with everything I had. I still do actually.


	2. Emmy Arrives

Chapter 1: Emmy Arrives

Everyone knew she was on her way. Everyone except me, of course. I was always the last person to know about gossip; I just never cared about it. That was all Ron and Seamus. They were the nosy ones out of the boys in our house. They weren't as talented as Lavender and Parvati, but the blokes were almost to their level. So I never heard about the new girl who was transferring from the States. It wasn't until the night before she was to arrive that my best mate [Ron] finally told me of the news that was spreading around the school like wildfire.

The Gryffindor common room was empty that cold, wintery night. Mostly everyone had gone off to bed after the celebration over Slytherin's defeat. Malfoy [Slytherin's quidditch captain] was sent to the hospital wing a week before the match because he fell off his broom during one of his practices. Madame Pomfrey refused to let Malfoy continue to play the quidditch match against Gryffindor, stating that he awfully hurt his ankle. I didn't complain, however, as that meant we got an easy game against our rivals. Without Malfoy, the team was horrendously stupid in their techniques and plays.

But because I was too busy celebrating Gryffindor's victory, I forgot that I had an Arthimency essay due the following day. Thus, I spent the rest of the night working on a three foot essay about Merlin's Balancing Equation. I have great respect for witches and wizards who decide to battle with the heinous subject. My mother [Lily Potter] was the one who suggested [more like forced] me to take the course my sixth year, and I've regretted it ever since. I understood it perfectly at first; and then weird things called exponents and fractions started working their way in the arthimency equations, I was a goner after that.

My head lifted when I heard the grandfather clock chime loudly. It was midnight. I had been working on the essay for three hours now, and I only had the title and my name written down. I rubbed my hands with my face, wishing that I hadn't procrastinated. Now I was going to fail the assignment. For sure, my grade was going to lower to a T. I tried to remember what Professor Vector was saying Friday morning, but all that popped into my head was the ice cream Dean let me try during the party.

I was too busy worrying over my grade that I didn't hear somebody sit down next to me. It wasn't until I felt a hand touch my shoulder that I broke off my trance. I turned my head to see Ron sitting next to me with a stupid smirk across his face.

I smacked his hand off my shoulder. "What the hell is wrong with you? Go snog Casey [his latest girlfriend] or something!"

Ron placed a large hand on his chest, acting as if he was wounded. "Now Mr. Boffin, don't get angry with me because you can't finish the bloody essay."

I was gonna stand up when Ron pulled me back on my seat. "Stay, you fucker! Seamus told me that there's somebody new coming to Hogwarts. And knowing you, for sure you didn't know about this."

I stared bemused at Ron. Mostly everone who went to Hogwarts all knew each other since before they hit puberty; some even way before that. Anybody new who came was just a total shock to all of us. Well, you couldn't really blame us. There was barley any students who transferred to our school. But we all perfectly understood why there wasn't any new people who came around: Hogwarts was a very "selective" school.

Ron waved his hand in front of my face. "Hello! Hello! Earth to Harry! Come in, you tosser!"

I slapped his hand away for the second time that night. "Wait, when did this happen?"

Ron leaned back against the couch and began playing with the ends of his gold and scarlet tie. "I dunno," he shrugged his shoulders, "Seamus said that Parvati told him that she heard from McGonagall telling Flitwick that Dumbledore hasn't mentioned anything because the parents weren't sure if the kid was coming here."

I shook my head. It couldn't be possible. Parvati must've heard wrong. Violet [my younger sister] would've opened her big mouth now. It was impossible for the third year to keep her mouth shut. "I don't bloody believe you," I laughed.

Ron smiled. "I reckoned you wouldn't, mate. But believe it as the bloke is coming tomorrow."

By this time, I absolutely forgot about my Arthimency work. "How do you know it's a boy?" I asked.

Ron shook his head. "I don't. Just assuming."

A smirk plastered across the ginger's face as he raised his arms and put them behind his head. He rested his feet upon the table. If my mother saw that, she would've died from a massive heart attack. She liked to keep the furniture in tip top shape. The funny thing is that when it was quidditch season and her beloved Puddlemere United were playing, she'd jumped all over the house like a tiny rabbit.

"Blimey, Harry! I hope it's a hot bird. A really hot bird. With a big arse and all that stuff. I would totally shag that if I could!" I saw that glazed look in his eyes. My face contorted in disgust. I didn't want to even imagine what his sick mind was thinking about.

"As if she would shag you!" I teased; my face relaxing to a grin.

Ron turned his head towards me. A sly smile that just proved he was related to Fred and George Weasley [Ron's older playful brothers] broke into his face. "There's more than one reality, you know."

I was already walking up the stairs to the Boys' Dormitories by the time Ron was finishing his sick statement. "Good night, you sick bastard."

The last thing I heard before I quickly shut the door behind me was Ron yelling, "Have a nice time wanking off!" I knew I wasn't going to be the one wanking tonight.

The next morning I robustly thanked anyone who was up there at the heavens: for the first time ever, I didn't wake up to the sound of a girl... "giggling". During my sixth year, most of the boys in my dorm had a girlfriend. Hence most mornings I would hear those noises a lot. This was the downside of boys not being allowed to go to the girl's dormitories. It seemed that the Founders had more trust on females.

I turned my head to the side to see that everyone was still sleeping. Ron's snoring infiltrated the room; it sounded like a broken car engine. As I reminisce about my time in Hogwarts, it astounds me to know that I was able to sleep through my best mate's vexatious snores. Even if everyone else did snore as well, Ron was an exaggeration.

I jumped as I heard an extra snore this morning. The sound was coming from Dean's bed. Because of worrying over who's snore that was, I didn't notice that Neville's ridiculously loud alarm was about to go off. And finally, it began. RING, RING, RING, RING, RING!

Loudly did that fucking alarm rang and as usual, Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw stood from Neville's bed with her wand in hand. She tapped the clock once with her wand and it shut quiet. Neville, after the longest time ever, finally had the courage to asked Luna on a date. He mentioned that the date went so well that everybody saw Luna walking funny the next morning. It was as if they were dating except there was no intimate touching. They've been happily going out for six months now.

Luna was clad in one of Neville's Gryffindor shirts, and that was what she was ONLY wearing. It took everything within me not to lower my eyes to Luna's beautifully long, pale legs. She smiled gently at me.

"Harry," she said in her wistful, soft voice. My eyes connected with her light blue ones. Her eyes always did remind me of the sky. "I know you like staring at my legs. I don't mind." Luna was very upfront.

I shook my head, gulping. "I'm fine. Thanks, Luna."

She nodded her head. She wasn't like other girls, either. So I knew she didn't feel offended. Luna reached behind her and in a flash, threw a pillow towards Seamus' bed. I put my pillow over my head, prepared for what was to happen next. This was our every morning's routine.

"WAKE UP MARIETTA! WE HAVE TO GO BACK TO RAVENCLAW TOWER!" Luna yelled at the top of her lungs.

A groan came from Seamus' bed. Soon, a tan leg appeared from behind Seamus' bed curtains. That was soon followed by an hour-glassed body. And finally, a curly-haired head appeared. I cringed when I saw Marietta's makeup smeared faced. The stench of vomit reached my nostrils. I made the edge of my pillow cover my nose.

She turned and kissed the hidden Seamus. "Bye, my poodly-kins, I'll come back tomorrow night where we can have some fun again."

I rushed out of my bed and into the bathroom. I didn't want to see anything else. I had a feeling this wasn't going to be a good day. And I honestly didn't want to start it with a sickening display of Seamus and one of his girl-toys practically having sex.

* * *

"Harry!" Ron's fist was pounding against the door. "Mate, hurry the fuck up! I would like to take a piss before I go down to breakfast!"

I exasperatedly let my arms hit against my body, giving up on trying to settle down my hair. I can just hear my father's jesting voice inside my head, "Don't even bother trying, son! Potter men will always be inflicted with this wretched hair!" I hate that what he said was and still is true. Fucking genetics.

"HARRY!"

It took everything out of me not to turn around and pummel Ron to the ground. I smiled to myself, imagining an unconscious Ronald Weasley. Yes, it was an enjoyable image. His immaturity got on my nerves at times.

I turned around and slammed the door open. Ron was standing on the other side; his legs were crossed as he tried to hold in his urine like a little kid. His position was very amusing. I always wished for a camera on that moment; I would've sent him a Christmas card with that picture slapped on the front every Christmas.

"What took so fucking long?" He complained. I moved out the way before Ron knocked me over. He rushed inside the loo, locking the door behind him. I'm sure he also added a silencing charm so we wouldn't hear him piss.

After Ron finally used the loo ["Thank fucking hell for that," he said], we proceeded to go down towards the Great Hall for breakfast. I was talking to Ron about Quidditch tryouts [I was Gryffindor's Quidditch captain that year] when somebody bumped against me.

It all happened before I could even comprehend what was going on. My vision was filled of books and books. I pushed the books off my face. Ron extended a hand to help me stand on my own two feet. I turned myself around, wanting to know who knocked me down. I heard Ron take a sharp intake of breath. My mouth watered when I saw who fell down with me.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," she laughed. A small, gentle laugh that made my stomach drop to my feet. She started reaching for her millions of books.

I noticed that she wasn't dressed in Hogwarts robes. She was wearing a black jumper that said "Teenage Runaway" in shiny, white letters. A rich, green polka-dotted skirt arrived to mid-thigh, exposing her tan legs that seemed to go on forever. Red Chuck Taylors were on her feet, completing her ensemble.

I bent down to help her pick up her collection of books after I passed my moment of shock. The books were more like tomes to be precise. How was this tiny girl able to carry all these books?

"No, it's my fault," I heard myself say. "I didn't see where I was going." I got a book and passed it to her. She slowly lifted her head and to this day, even after ten years, I can still remember what her large, brown eyes did to me. It was as if time ceased to exist anymore. Nothing mattered but those chocolate-colored eyes. Her eyes were hypnotic; a true magician. I knew by just staring at her eyes that things usually went her way. How couldn't they? One look into those brown pools and she had you in her command. I couldn't make my eyes look away. I didn't want to look away.

She smiled softly at me; oh, what a magnificent, large smile it was. Her rosy cheekbones uplifted in her face. Her dark pink, luscious lips stretched to show her perfect, white teeth.

Her voice broke me out of my daze. She had an amiable, strong voice. It seemed to fit her perfectly. "Alright, we can say it's your fault then," she joked. She got her books from my hand, making our fingers touch gently. Chills ran down my spine. Who was this girl? Brown Eyes stood from the floor, pushing her curly, chestnut hair back. My eyes attracted to her curls; they seemed so soft: I wanted to run my fingers through it.

I smiled back at her. "Are you ok? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She laughed quietly, adjusting her books in her hands. "I'm not glass if you haven't noticed."

I opened my mouth to ask what her name was, but another voice interrupted me. "Ah, there you are, Miss Granger," a familiar, soft voice called. I turned to see who the voice belonged to. In all his glory [his long, silvery beard and mustache], Headmaster Albus Dumbledore walked towards our direction. His blue eyes sparkled behind his half-moon glasses.

The girl who's last name was now known as Granger smiled towards Dumbledore. "Good morning, Professor."

"Yes, a lovely morning it is." Dumbledore finally noticed Ron and me. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, good morning to you fine gentlemen. What an excellent match against Slytherin! Marvelous performance!"

Ron's face turned beet red. "Thank you, Professor. We wouldn't have won if Harry didn't catch the snitch in time."

Dumbledore smiled before he turned to Brown Eyes. "We should be going, Miss Granger. I will like to take you to our Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall."

Hermione smiled one last time towards Ron and me before she walked away with Dumbledore. I grudgingly wished Dumbledore never came. I would still be talking with Brown Eyes.

Ron started pulling me towards the Great Hall. "C'mon Harry! I'm starving!" I turned my head, watching Brown Eyes walk out of my sight.

Throughout the rest of the day, all that I could think about was her. Who was she? Where was she from? What was her name? What was her favorite color? Did she like Quidditch? Did she play the sport? I could only think about her and her beautiful brown eyes. I didn't even care that Professor Vector gave me a T in my unfinished essay. She was all I cared about the entire day.

After a long day, dinner finally came around. I was glad. Eating usually took my mind off things [Brown Eyes]. I was happily munching on some Treacle Tart when McGonagall started tapping her spoon against the side of her glass cup. Everyone's attention was now brought to the head table. Dumbledore stood from his seat.

He extended his arms. "Now that you are stuffy and full, I would like to acknowledge the presence of a new student." This aroused noise from the houses. Once everyone settled, Dumbledore continued, "She is a transfer from the Salem Institute of Magical Studies and I would like for all of you to please welcome her with open arms. Now, Miss Granger, please come forward and let's get you sorted, don't be a fool."

My mind stopped functioning when I saw Brown Eyes [now in plain, Hogwarts Robes] confidently walk from the Trophy Room. She was walking towards a four-legged stool where on top if it, the sorting hat was humming a tune. Soon, many of the male population of Hogwarts started obeying Dumbledore's request. They all definitely welcomed her with catcall wistles and shouts of glee. In front of me, Fred started trilling from his seat. I was too shocked to even make a sound. I saw Ron was in the same position as me.

Brown eyes ignored all the fuss and still continued walking towards the stool. However, I could see a small smile play on her full lips. She sat on the stool and gently put the hat on top of her head. I never in my life would have thought that the sorting hat made a female look so alluring. But as Brown Eyes sat with her legs crossed and with the hat on her head, I thought just that.

Never has anyone taken so long to get sorted. Dumbledore even stated himself that he has never witnessed such a sorting. It wasn't until later on that I discovered why the sorting hat couldn't decide which house to sort her in. After a while, the sorting hat finally made a choice. And what he screamed made me the happiest man in the planet. I just didn't know it then.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Gryffindor cheered so loud that our echoes had echoes. Most of the people cheering, however, were males. The rest of the houses mourned over the lost of the beauty. Brown Eyes opened her eyes and smiled that breathtaking smile. She took the hat off her head, placing it gently back on the stool. To the shock of most of us, she didn't walk to Gryffindor table, but back to the Trophy Room. McGonagall stood from her seat, following Brown Eyes.

Dumbledore stood up again. "Everyone scurry and go off to bed, it be best to be fresh and well for tomorrow's studies. Now that's been said, good night everyone!"

Everybody started bustling out of the Great Hall. I was too preoccupied thinking again about Brown Eyes that I forgot to wait for Ron. I quickly hurried out of the Great Hall, selfishly wanting to be the first one Brown Eyes talked to. But when I got there, she wasn't there. Resigned, I decided that it was time I went off to bed. The last thing in my mind before I went to bed was a pair of electrifying brown eyes. Her brown eyes.


	3. Dream Along

I was ninety-nine percent sure that Brown Eyes was a dream I had. Yet, there was that one percent that made me have hope. The next morning I did something that I thought I would never do: I broke the usual morning's routine. Neville's alarm did not wake me up that morning. I didn't have the desire to stare at Luna's beautifully long legs for now I wanted to stare at somebody else's. Seamus' disturbing girl-toy scenes didn't motivate me to get out of my bed. No-something more grand and more superb replaced all of that. Brown Eyes was the object of my motivation.

I was ready to go down to the Great Hall by the time Luna was throwing a pillow towards Seamus' face. She was about to scream at Seamus' latest girl-toy, but her voice caught up in her throat when she saw me. I waved one time at her before I rushed out of the dorm. It was my mission today to have at least one conversation with Brown Eyes. If I possibly can, maybe more than one.

There was no time to waste. None what-so-ever! I ran down the Grand Staircase, tripping a couple of times. Still, that didn't stop me. I was a man on a mission for crying out loud! I HAD to hear her nectarous voice once again! It was like a craving that needed to be satisfied.

I bustlingly threw the Great Hall doors open, not caring who's attention I caught. And with my heart coming up my throat, I saw her there. She was sitting at the edge of the Gryffindor Table. She was piling chocolate chip waffles on her plate. I smiled at that. Wondeful!-a girl who ate. I liked that.

I quietly walked towards the Gryffindor table, sitting near Brown Eyes. I casually reached for the syrup that was near her. Her eyes peeked from the corner of her book. My heart this time did come out of my mouth. And it landed on her plate. I quickly shook my shock off and sat back down on my seat, drowning my pancakes in syrup. Brown Eyes continued reading her book.

I felt like I was making a fool out of myself. I grabbed my goblet, ready to drink out of it. But then I saw no pumpkin juice inside my cup. I searched around for the jug of pumpkin juice when my wonderful, wonderful luck struck me again. The fucking jug was next to Brown Eyes. As I think of it now, I see what a fucking idiot I was. I could've started conversation with Brown Eyes by asking her if she could pass me the jug. Be that as it may, teenage boys really don't have brains around females. So what I end up doing: I grabbed the jug and I don't know how this happened, the jug slipped from my hands.

My seeker reflexes failed me; Brown Eyes was showered in pumpkin juice. She stood from her seat, a cry escaping from her mouth.

"Fuck!" She yelled. My eyes widened at the lady's language. "Shite, my books!" She pulled her books from the pool of spilt juice.

I quickly helped to dry her books. I pulled my wand from my book bag. I was a fucking idiot. However, what shocked me more was that Brown Eyes was more worried about her books than her clothes. Usually it was the other way around when it came to girls. Looks are everything to them.

I opened her books. "Oh Merlin, I'm sorry. I'm a klutz. Here, let me help." In a wave of a wand, her books were fresh ans dried. I aimed my wand at her and cleaned my mess.

She laughed gently, running her hands through her hair. I had the instinct to run my fingers through her hair again. It just looked so bloody soft, dammit! "I think you are a klutz. First you tackle me down and then you drop juice on me. You're on a roll."

I smiled. "It's a gift." She raised an eyebrow. "People say my dad had a knack for trouble. I guess I've inherited it."

She nodded her head, sitting back down. "Well, of course your father had a knack for trouble!" She exclaimed. "He killed Voldemort!"

It usually annoyed me to talk about my parents' defeat against Voldemort, but at the moment I didn't care. Brown Eyes said his name... Usually people referred Voldemort by You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. People were too afraid to say his name. Yet, here was Brown Eyes saying it as if she was talking about her mother. Wow!

My eyebrows furrowed. "You-you... you said his-"

"Name?" Brown Eyes interrupted. She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I know. It's just a name. I don't understand why people are afraid. Fearing the name only would make him stronger. It's fear evil men crave. It's pathetic if you ask me."

My mouth hung open at her words. She was just too perfect. "I agree. It's stupid how people created code names for him. We should just say it. He's dead anyway." I took a bite from my pancakes.

I slowly lifted my head. Brown Eyes was staring at me. A small grin rested upon her lips. I wondered what she thought of me. I didn't have to wonder long for she told me herself.

Her fork pointed towards me. Her head was turned to the side "You know what," she stated, a mouth full of strawberries. "I like you. I like you a lot." She took another stab at her waffles.

Her words brought a new, fluttery feeling to my stomach. "Well, can I know the name of the girl who likes me?"She reached for a berry from my pancakes. I subconsciously brought my plate closer to me; I don't share well with food. She noticed this, smirking at my movement. She tilted her head back, throwing the berry in the air. In awe, I watched the berry land inside her open mouth successfully.

"Hermione," she stated, chewing on her berry.

I blinked once and then twice. Finally, I responded. "What?"

She shook her head. "You asked me what name was and I answered. My name is Hermione Granger, but I prefer if people call me Emmy."

Before I could even stop myself, I asked why did she prefer to be called Emmy. She stared at me as if I had an extra head. "Did you not just hear what my name is?" She exclaimed.

Now it was my turn to stare at her that way. "What d'ya mean?" She exasperatedly let her palms slam against the table. "Who the hell names their child 'Hermione'? I understand that my parents wanted to be original, and that they are fans of Shakespeare, but couldn't they choose another freaking Shakespearean name! Out of all the names he had in his plays, they choose the weirdest one! I would've been fine with Ophelia or Rosalind! Honestly!"

I couldn't help it: I laughed. She had no idea how remarkably beautiful her name was. If I'm ever to meet her parents, I am going to high five them for picking such a perfect name. And I did, when I finally met them. "At least your name isn't a homophone with hairy," I implied.

She stared at me for a while. For a minute, I believed I said something wrong. But then she threw her head back, and the sweetest laughter escaped her mouth. I had a funny feeling, however, that it wasn't her real laugh. And I was right. I tried to stay quiet. I thought it'd be best if I didn't say anything, just to let her "laugh". Nevertheless, I still laughed along with her.

Laughing along with her made me feel as if I was swimming in a huge pool of sweet honey. The same feeling I got when riding my Nimbus 2000. Her brown eyes would sparkle brighter than the stars. It was so beautiful. I wouldn't mind spending my whole day talking to her.

"You're truly an idiot, did you know that," she laughed.

I shrugged. "Been told once or twice."

She threw a blueberry towards me. Before it hit me against my face, I opened my mouth. She squealed in joy when the blueberry landed inside my mouth. I grinned towards her.

"I'm impressed, Buddy Boy," Emmy grinned. She looked at her watch before she stood from her seat. She placed a hand on my shoulder. The same electric current from before ran through me. I tried not to shiver.

She breathed loudly through her nose. "As much as I would love to continue throwing blueberries towards you, I gotta head to the loo before my bladder explodes."

I chuckled; she was blunt. "That would be a great misfortune. It would be clever if you released. You seem pretty brilliant."

She scoffed playfully, "I am." She winked once. I stood rooted in my seat.

She grabbed her books and walked away. Maybe it was only me, but I could swear on my parents' fortune that there was an extra sway in her hips.

For the rest of breakfast, I could only think about what a fantastic woman Emmy was. Blimey!-where the hell has she been all my life! I didn't even care about the new broom move Ron was telling me about. I was too busy praying that she was in one of my classes.

* * *

AND THERE IS A GOD! OH YES THERE MOST DEFINITELY IS A GOD!

I was walking to my Arthimency class when I heard what had now become my most favorite sound in the world: Emmy's laugh. I quickened my pace to the classroom, thinking I've officially gone mad. Why would she be taking Arthimency? It's not an offence to her intelligence, honest. It's just that most people tended to avoid that class as much as possible. In the beginning of the year, Ravenclaws were the only brave souls who were daring enough to deal with the horrible course. I wouldn't have taken the class myself if my mother didn't forced me to do so.

I arrived quickly inside the classroom. A huge smile was ripping my face apart. But then I saw something that made my heart tug. Hermione was talking with Terry Boot, the pompous tosser from Ravenclaw. Mr. Terry Boot was greatly known for his way with the ladies. He seduced ladies with his charm, and he knew how to use it well. He had a reputation of finding a new girl ever week. And after having his shenanigans with the girl, he would chuck her aside. The next "lucky" girl on his list was to be pursued.

Seeing Emmy talking with Tosser Terry made me realize something. Emmy was next on Tosser Terry's list. And the thought of it brought a nasty monster from inside my chest to awaken. I had to make sure that Emmy didn't fall for his tricks.

If you haven't noticed so far, Emmy is very different from other girls. Most girls fall for Tosser Terry's smooth words. Emmy, on the other hand, well...

"If you don't bloody get away from me in the next five seconds, I will hex you so bad that your little willy nilly will be up your arse!" I did a small dance in my head when I heard THAT come out her mouth. She saw through it. She actually did not fall for his nasty lies!

Terry stared at Emmy in a way that made me imagine his face was a dart board. "You're an insane crone, I tell ya!"

Hermione fisted her wand in her hand. "Oh... why don't you just fuck me now, huh? My god!-you're such a wanker! I dare you to call me a hag again! Go on! I swear to you, Boot, I'm not one to back down! I'll make your life a living hell if you cross me again!"

Everyone was staring at the two argue. It was a strange ordeal. Nobody ever turned down Tosser Terry's woos. The charm always hit them right on the spot. Yet, Emmy was threatening to take Terry's bollocks off. It brought a small sense of pride to me; and she brought it.

Before anything else could progress, Professor Vector came inside the class with the nasty arithmetic book she always carried everywhere. She waved her hand and everybody took their seat, signaling the start of class. I sat in the back by myself and away from the snooty Ravenclaws. I was opening my book to today's lesson when I felt a presence in front of me. I lifted my head to see Emmy staring at me.

She smiled. "Well look who's here! You have this class too, Buddy Boy?"

I nodded. "Yeah, unfortunately."

She sat next to me. A bit closer than she should. "Oh don't say that... Arthimency is a cool subject." I heard no sarcasm or laughter in her voice. She was serious. She liked the subject.

My eyebrows furrowed. "You like Arthimency?"

"I love it. It challenges me," she stated.

I chuckled. "I'm only taking it because my mother wanted me to. This class is horrid."

Emmy laughed quietly. She placed her hand on top of mine. Many girls throughout my teenage years always touched my hands when they flirted or out of comfort. And what still amazes me to this day is that Emmy's touch affected me so differently. I had the sudden urge to kiss her luscious lips.

"If you'd like, I could tutor you if you don't get the material." That night I floo-ed to Godric's Hollow and I kissed and hugged my mum for all that she was worth. Because of her, I wouldn't have all this alone time with Emmy. To say she was surprised would be an understatement. My father touched my forehead, wondering if I had a fever. But instead I grabbed his hand from my forehead and began dancing with him. My spirits were too high to care that I probably look like an idiot dancing the macarena with my dad in the kitchen.

I smiled, putting my other hand on top of hers. "Sure, that'll be great. I need lots of help. It'd be fantastic if you can help me."

"No problem. I'm glad to help. Meet me today at the library after dinner," she replied. I nodded enthusiastically... maybe a bit enthusiastically. But who cares!-I was going to spend all this time with Emmy!

For the rest of the day, I felt like time was teasing me. Every class seemed to lag on! It wasn't until that it was finally dinner that I hurried to finish my dinner. I noticed that Emmy wasn't sitting at the table. She was probably preparing today's tutoring session. I was a bit disappointed as I wanted to see her. But I was okay. I was going to see her soon. The thought of it made me want to dance the macarena again.

"Blimey, mate! What's with the rush?" Ron exclaimed, stuffing a large piece of turkey inside his mouth.

I swallowed the big piece of sausage that I had in my mouth. "I have a tutoring session and I don't want to be late."

"Since when did you have tutoring?" Ron yelled. Most of Gryffindor table stared at Ron. Dean threw Ron a piece of ham towards Ron's head, telling him to shut up. In response, Ron decided to show off his middle finger. Seamus' laughter bounced off the walls.

Ron turned back to me. "So?"

I stared down at my steak, pushing it around my plate. "I dunno. This girl from Arthimency asked if I needed held and I said yes. It's no big deal." Oh, it was a big deal.

Ron's smile broke into a large grin. "This isn't just a girl! Oh, finally! Seamus, Dean, Neville! Come over here!" Ron yelled down the table.

Seamus, Dean, and Neville were at Ron's side in a flash. I had s pair of four eyes burning holes through my head.

"What's up, Ron?" Seamus asked, playing with the ring on his finger.

Ron smirked. "Our little prude here finally has a date!"

Dean was the first to react. He clapped me on my back. "Congratulations, Harry! You finally grew a pear!" Everybody else laughed.

"So who's the lucky girl, Harry?" Neville asked.I shooked my head. At times, I hated these boys. "No! No!" I yelled; "There is no girl!" There was but I didn't want these fuckers to know.

"Yeah, right! If we hear any funny noises tonight, we know that our little Harry's having a smashing time, boys!" Seamus joked.

"Let's look on the bright side, I don't they'll last that long!" Dean added.

I shook my head. My friends were such perverts. While everyone was still kidding about my sex life, I took this as my escape route. I quickly stood from my seat and left to go see Emmy.

* * *

I found Emmy at the back of the library. Her books were already open. I guess she was working on her homework. I sat down across from her. After a moment of awkward silence from my part, she lifted her head from her book. She smiled when she saw me sitting across from her.

"Oh, hey!" She beamed. "I'm sorry for not noticing you! When I read, I get really into it. I block everything out."

I nodded. "Don't worry. I just got here."

She placed her book in front of me. She pointed to this weird equation. I got a headache just staring at it. "Harry, do you know what this is?" She asked.

I stared at it hard, trying to remember what the hell it was. But nothing came. I shook my head. I sighed. "You must think I'm an idiot."

She shook her head. A sweet smile on her lips. "I've never thought of such a thing Harry."

I smiled at her. She was so... whoa! She pulled a large tome from beside her. She placed right in front of me, opening to the first page. I bit my lip to stop the groan that was about to escape from my mouth. "Let's get started, shall we."

But then I looked at the bright side. I was gonna be spending more time with her. My mum was gonna be receiving many gifts from me in the nearby future.


End file.
